To Her
by As the Robin Flies
Summary: Her opinion of him changes every day. Every day, she sees something new about him, or sees something that just reinforces what she already thinks she knows. All he has to do is show her who he really is.


It's a rainy day, and this idea popped into my head. I hope like it.

~Robin

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling lives in England. I don't.

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><p>First Year<p>

He rules the school. The older girls exclaim over how cute he is. He pulls pranks. He gets perfect grades.

She doesn't see how. He's only a first-year. He can't rule the school. He's just skin and bones, and his hair is always messy. His pranks are embarrassing for their victims. He never studies, but instead spends all of his time goofing off. He's just another boy, one that she ignores.

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><p>Second Year<p>

He's the newest Gryffindor chaser. Everyone applauds his ability on a broom. He starts to notice girls. To be specific, a Ms. Lily Evans. Everyone knows. Everyone says how adorable it is. He starts hexing the Slytherins, and everyone is happy they're being taught a lesson.

She doesn't see how. He can play quidditch. Great, but so can the rest of the team, and half of the rest of the school. He bothers her even more, staring at her in hallways and classes. She doesn't think it's adorable. To her, it's downright bothersome. He hexes and teases her best friend, even though he doesn't deserve it. His image gets worse in her eyes.

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><p>Third Year<p>

He starts asking her to Hogsmeade. Repeatedly. Almost every day. She doesn't know when it will stop. She never says yes, but he never gives up. She doesn't say no because he's ugly. No, he's filled out from first-year, but he's still just a gangly teenage boy to her. His hexing gets worse, trying to impress her. He starts ruffling his hair, making it messier than usual, wanting her to see it. He shows off with the snitches he nicks, trying to catch her attention.

None of it works. She ignores him as much as possible. Unfortunately, it doesn't work well when he's completely obsessed with her.

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><p>Fourth Year<p>

He comes up with more creative methods of hexing and asking her out. He continues both. Relentlessly. And at the same time. Her best friend is covered in boils courtesy of his wand, while he asks her out.

"Anyway, Evans. Come to Hogsmeade with me?" he says, wand still trained on her best friend, who is on the ground, his entire body covered in throbbing red pustules.

"Not even when Hell freezes over, Potter," she spits back, performing simple counter-jinx on her friend before sweeping away from the area, where he stands with a crestfallen look on his face.

That is the side of him that she never sees. The side of him that gets upset every time she rejects him. The side that needs to be consoled by his friends every time. The sensitive side of him that she might actually like, if only he showed it around her. But no, he looks cocky when he's with her. He never shows the side that might prove his true feelings. She thinks it's just a game to him, but its so much more than just that.

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><p>Fifth Year<p>

He keeps going. He just can't help it. When she gets angry with him, her eyes spark, and her hair seems to catch alight. She's gorgeous other times, but when she's mad, she becomes beautiful. What he doesn't see is that she is just a beautiful when she is happy as when she is mad. He doesn't see that if he just acted normal around her, she might consider giving him her attention. No, he still feels the need to cause trouble, just for her to glance his way and take off points, or give him detention.

One day, he goes to far. He causes her best friend, her oldest friend, to turn. And he knows she'll never forgive him for that.

"What have I done?" he asks that night, when he and his friends are alone in their dormitory.

"She'll come around, Mate," his best friend, his brother, says. "She never stays mad for long. She just goes back to ignoring you after a day or so."

"You didn't see the look in her eyes, Padfoot," he says woefully. "You didn't see the hatred, the disappointment, the sadness. You didn't see the loathing."

"James," his other friend, the werewolf, says quietly, "maybe, maybe its time to let her go."

"I've tried, Moony," he responds. "I've tried. But whenever I see her, hear her voice, her laugh, I just can't do it anymore. I can't stop myself. I'm in love with her. I think I have been for months."

Silence rings through the room, nobody knowing how to follow that proclamation up. Nobody having anything else that can be said.

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><p>Sixth Year<p>

He tries his best. He tries to watch her from afar. He watches her laughing with her friends, doing homework in the library, reading by the common room fire. He can't help but watch her. His gaze is drawn to her, but he tries not to talk to her. He tries to stay out of her way, tries to resist the urge to brush her hair from her cheek, or place his lips against her. He tries, and somehow, he succeeds. He knows he hasn't gotten over her, but he also knows that he'll never have her either.

She notices. How could she not? He's been obsessed with her for years, and then it stops. Sometimes, she catches his eyes trained on her, a small smile on his face, before blushing slightly and turning away. She doesn't understand why he's obsessed with her so. Why he seems to want her and nobody else. When he doesn't speak to her, she can't help but feel that something is missing from her life. That his constant interruptions are something that needs to happen.

It comes as a shock, when, on the last day of the school year, he comes up to her and says, in a normal, if slightly quiet, voice, "Have a nice summer, Lily."

It comes as even more of a shock, to both of them, when she says back, "You too, James."

It was the first time she said his name upon her lips, and for some reason, it feels right. It feels almost normal to say that name, like something had been gone before she had said it, but was now back, fixing something that had been wrong.

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><p>Seventh Year<p>

He gets Head Boy, and she gets Head Girl. Surprisingly, when she finds out, she doesn't want to scream her frustration. The summer had given her time to reflect on the last year. She realizes that maybe, just maybe, they could be friends.

The first day of September comes, and they run the prefect meeting while, working together. The prefects are shocked not to see an outburst from her if he makes a mistake. They are shocked when she gives him a smile of thank you when the meeting is over.

They aren't friends. No, but they at least get along now. They can have a conversation that doesn't consist of her yelling at or hexing him. They get their Heads work done quickly and efficiently. They make a good team. But, every time they are together, he wants nothing more than to kiss her, to hold her, to learn all her secrets, but he doesn't try to do anything. He just enjoys her company whenever they have duties together, trying to make the most of the situation.

Then everything changes. She's at breakfast, when an owl she doesn't know lands in front of her, an official-looking letter held in its beak. She opens it, intrigued. Her interest slowly turns to horror, denial. He emotions take over, and she drops the envelope, hands shaking, before running from the great hall, not noticing that a similar owl and letter had landed in front of him, along with other students.

He opens his letter before she runs, and he freezes. He freezes at the knowledge that his parents are dead, gone from the world. That they will never smile at or tease him again. He can't take it. When she runs, so does he. She doesn't know he's behind her, and he doesn't' know she's ahead of him, both lost in a whirlwind of emotion.

He sits down in the common room, not noticing even then that somebody else is sharing the same couch, not noticing that the girl he loves is sobbing, holding her knees to her chest in the fetal position.

He only notices when she sits up and asks quietly, in a shaking voice, "J-James? Why are you up here? Shouldn't you be in class?"

But even then he doesn't see the tear stains on her cheeks, the waver in her voice, her red, puffy eyes. Instead, he snaps at her for the first time in his life. "My parents are dead, Evans! I think that I deserve to be allowed to skip a class or two because of that!"

She isn't taken aback by this, to his surprise. Instead of backing off, she just whispers, "So are mine." Then she stands up, intending to go up to her dormitory and leave him there alone.

He watches her the whole way to the bottom of the stairs before he stops her. "Wait! Lily, I'm sorry, don't go. I-I don't want to be alone," he says, finishing in just a small whisper.

She turns back to him, walking slowly back to the couch. She sits next to him and he turns to meet her eyes. "You'll never be alone," she tells him in a quiet voice. "You have Sirius, and Remus, and Peter." She hesitated, but when she looked into his eyes again, she knew that she could say it. His eyes, so stricken with grief, make her realize what she had been hiding from even herself since the last day of their sixth year. It makes her realize that she cares for this boy more than she had ever cared for anyone else before. "You have me," she promises. "You will always have me."

He looks at her, just looks into her eyes. "I know," he says. A smile starts to creep over his face, but can't quite break through the grief. She sees this, and she knows what he needs. What they both need. She leans over, and kisses him.

His surprise freezes him for just a second before he reacts. Her lips spread fire through his body, and he pulls her closer, so that no space exists between the two of them. When she pulls away, his hands release her waist and he asks slowly, hesitation creeping into his voice, "That wasn't just because my parents died, was it?"

She frowns and takes his hand. "Of course not. You don't see me handing out pity kisses to anyone else, do you? What makes you think you're special enough that I would do that for you?" she teases, leaning against his chest.

"Because you love me," he says simply, planting a kiss on top of her head. She doesn't bother to deny it. She knows that it's true. "And because I love you." She simply nods, not wanting to speak, but just to lay there, he head on his chest, his arm around her waist, holding her close to him.

They spend the rest of the day there, talking, and occasionally sharing a kiss, but mostly just enjoying the other's company.

When their friends come back from classes, they are still there, on that same couch, his arm still around her, her head still leaning against his chest. The three boys and four girls are talking worriedly, but it soon turns to shock as they see the redheaded girl and the raven-haired boy cuddled on the couch.

The redhead's best friend marches accusingly up to them and asks in a cross voice, "Just where have you two been all day? And why are you all lovey-dovey on the couch together?"

Lily sits up and smiles at Alice, James, sitting up properly, goes with her, his arm never leaving her waist. "You'll all want to get comfortable," she says mildly. "It could take a little while."

The rest of the girls and the boys all go over, taking seats around the new couple. She clears her throat and smiles before starting the story. "Well, it all started in first year..."

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><p>Did you like it? I was trying to show how Lily's view of James changed over the years, and how he himself tried to change too. Please review and tell me what you think.<p> 


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